


You Can't Go Home Again

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Blood Brothers, Brothers, Childhood Friends, Family, Gen, Parent Death, Pre-Movie(s), Stargazing, happy with a sad ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:49:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5632174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe Dameron and Ben Solo grow up together. No one can hurt you so much as someone who used to love you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Go Home Again

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to reydameronskywalker for the idea of poe and ben meeting at shara bey's funeral

There were always children running around the Resistance base. Folks called it the Battle of Endor baby boom. With so many kids, Ben barely noticed Poe up until the time he was six years old when his parents dragged him along to the funeral of Shara Bey.

With his father’s hand on his shoulder and his mother beside him, her face tight and drawn, he hardly knew where to look. There was the casket being lowered into the earth, there were the mourners, there was the gray sky.

And there was the boy with unruly hair shuffling beside Sergeant Kes Dameron, his eyes fixed on the casket.

“Mom,” Ben whispers, tugging on his mother’s sleeve. “Mother.”

“Hm?” she whispers, tilting her head down toward her son. “What is it?”

He points to the boy. “Who’s that?”

Leia crouches down beside Ben, puts an arm around his shoulder. “That’s Poe Dameron,” she tells him, voice low. “Lieutenant Bey’s son.”

Ben looks from Poe to the casket, from the casket to Poe. “So he doesn’t have a mother anymore?”

“No, dear,” she says, rubbing small circles into his shoulder as she straightens up. “No, he doesn’t have a mother anymore.”

After the funeral Ben slips away from his parents and his uncle and wanders up to Poe, who looks stunned and alone as he waits for his father to finish speaking with the guests.

“Hi,” says Ben, almost a whole head shorter than the other boy. “Your name’s Poe, right?”

Poe nods, messy curls bouncing off his forehead. Ben finds himself wondering if Lieutenant Bey used to bounce him on her knee the way his mother does with him. He wonders if she used to sweep his hair back with her hand the way Leia does with him.

“I’m Ben,” he says, reaching out a hand. It seems stilted and too formal, and Poe seems just as uncomfortable when he reaches out to shake it. “Do you miss her?”

Poe stares at him for a long moment, and then nods. Rethinking it, he swallows, hard, and says, “Yes,” in the shakiest voice Ben’s ever heard.

“I’m sorry,” Ben says. Poe scuffs his shoe against the dirt, nods. “I still have a mother.” Poe’s eyes flash upward; he looks appalled. “N-no,” Ben corrects himself, his shoulders shrinking inward. “No, I wasn’t… I wasn’t _bragging_. I just, I just mean… if you wanted to share her. If you wanted to share my mother, maybe that would be okay.”

Slowly, slowly, Poe raises his eyes to meet Ben’s. “Really?”

“Sure,” Ben says.

The next time they see each other is a week later when Poe knocks on their door and haltingly asks if Ben might want to play.

Gradually, they become inseparable. Poe teaches Ben how to fly a speeder and the two spend hours playing card games stretched out on the floor of the Solo-Organa quarters. They race across the barracks like they’re always in a rush to get somewhere.

In his grief, Kes Dameron buries himself in his work. Leia’s been doing that the whole time anyway, but she still has time to run a wet comb through Poe Dameron’s hair before he goes galloping after her son. She still has time to tell the boys war stories, along with fairy tales and Alderaan legends and the occasional funny limerick.

Ben, young and Force-sensitive, trains with a remote automaton while Poe does his schoolwork, sprawled across the couch. In actuality, he spends less time doing schoolwork and more time throwing things at Ben to see if the other boy can deflect them with his mock-up lightsaber.

One time Leia bustles through and sees Ben, helmet shielding his eyes and fully intent on his Jedi training. On the opposite side of the room, Poe lounges against a bench, swooping a toy X-wing around and around his head.

If questioned, he’ll deny that he was making _whooshing_ noises.

When he catches the General smiling, he gets self-conscious. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs, flipping through files on her padd. “You just… reminded me of Ben’s uncle, for a second.”

When Ben is eight and Poe is ten, Ben suggests they mix their blood together. “And then,” he says, getting excited, “you would have the middy— midichlorians too. And you could be a Jedi, like me.”

And, well, Poe is excited too. Sure, he wants to be a Jedi.

They prick each other’s arms and hold them together, and while they stand there listening to the distant sounds of the grown-ups running around running the Resistance, Ben points out that now they’ll really be brothers.

When C-3PO finds out, he has a fit and warns them about the many kinds of blood-borne diseases they can pick up, especially on an outer rim planet. Ben and Poe brush him off like they always do. It really doesn’t much matter to them.

They’re brothers now.

It’s summer on D’Qar, and it’s hot as hell. Poe is eleven and obsessed with flying. He talks about it with Han Solo all the time when he’s over for dinner, mouth full and spewing food while he’s trying to get sentences in. Sometimes he sits in awe just listening to wild tales about the Millenium Falcon— tales which are only half the time true, according to the General.

Poe and Ben lie out on the concrete of the hangar, Poe identifying all the ships that go flying overhead.

“What’s that one?” Ben will ask, pointing, and Poe will answer, “That’s an A-wing” or “That’s an X-wing fighter” or “That’s a taxi, Ben. They’re everywhere, come on, kid. Seriously?”

Ben’s hair gets wildly curly, even longer and more unruly than Poe’s, a fact the older boy delights in when he takes every opportunity to mess up the kid’s hair.

“Cut it out, Dameron,” Ben whines, shoving at his friend. “Someday I’m gonna be taller than you, ya know.”

“Sure, kid,” Poe says, and gives him a noogie before ducking out of Ben’s swinging arms.

Ben does shoot up, growing taller than Poe by the time he’s thirteen. “You’re still skinny,” Poe remarks, earning a swat from Ben. “Aw, relax, beanpole,” he jibes, reaching up to muss up Ben’s hair.

One summer they get completely wrapped up in a holonovella, binge-watching it on Ben’s bed with cold feet bumping against each other.

“Wait,” Poe says, munching on the snacks they’d raided from the Solo-Organa pantry, “why is Ian upset with Jia?”

“Because she’s sleeping with Chrissie,” Ben reminds him, eyes fixed on the images in front of them. “Remember?”

“When did that happen?”

“Last week!”

Poe grumbles. “I fell asleep.”

“Okay, so Chrissie is sleeping with Jia,” Ben says, rolling his eyes at having the recap a whole week of soap opera history, “but Chrissie is supposed to marry Ian’s brother. And he’s the only one who knows.”

“Who, the brother?”

“No, _Ian_ ,” Ben says, kicking him. “Jeez, are you even paying attention?”

At that moment, Leia pops her head in the room. “What are you kids watching?”

“Nothing,” they tell her at the exact same time.

Poe’s a natural when it comes to flying. He does a little pod-racing when he’s younger, Ben and Leia cheering him on at every race, but ends up dropping it because he dislikes the politics of the whole thing.

As soon as he’s old enough to fly he is, swooping and circling and pulling off maneuvers that people twice his age have trouble with.

“Who’s flying that thing?” one of the General’s aides asks one day, standing out on the tarmac with Ben.

“That’s my best friend,” Ben says, eyes in the sky. “And his name’s Poe Dameron and he’s the best pilot in the Resistance.”

When Ben is fourteen, they send him away.

“You’ll be fine, kid,” Poe tells him, knowing he’s gonna miss the guy like hell. Dusk is falling, and Ben leaves in the morning. “From what I hear, your uncle’s a great guy.”

“I want to stay here,” Ben says, whispers it like a confession. He doesn’t want to appear weak. “I… You’re right. I’ll be fine.”

“’Course you will,” Poe says, and hugs him.

He didn’t realize, going into the hug, that it would be so damn hard to let go.

Han’s always off doing whatever it is he does, and Ben’s gone, so often it’s just the General and Poe alone at dinner.

“You’d better finish that,” she tells him one evening. “I slaved over a hot stove… telling Threepio to make it.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says, remembering to actually eat his food instead of toying absently with it. Leia watches him carefully over the table. “What?”

“Do you call me ma’am because I’m a general or because I’m old?”

Poe laughs. “Neither, ma’am. I just keep almost saying ‘ma’ and then correcting myself.”

Ben calls every week.

“He’s pushing us pretty rough,” he explains, going over the different drills they run. “I’m the oldest. Luke says I need to work on control.”

“We’re learning a lot about Jedi history,” he says one week, holo-conferencing with an enraptured Poe. “And my grandfather, which is really interesting.”

Poe blinks. “Your grandfather,” he says. “You mean _Darth Vader_?”

“Well, yeah,” Ben shrugs. “He was incredibly powerful.”

“And incredibly evil.”

Ben stiffens. Even over communications, Poe can tell. “How would you like it if I told you your grandfather was evil?”

Poe shrugs. “I’d probably agree with you. He’s very racist.”

He cracks his patented Poe Dameron Charming Grin, but Ben’s not laughing. “I wish you would take me more seriously.”

Ben’s going through a lot, Poe knows. Away from his family, away from his home. Learning about himself, about his power. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he says, countering the patented grin with the patented Poe Dameron Apology Head Bob. “I’m just messing around, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid.”

“Okay, Ben,” Poe says, the shaky feeling of uneasiness sinking back into his bones. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Ben says. “Sure. I’ll talk to you later, I have to go.”

“Okay.”

Poe can barely eat that night at dinner.

He and Ben keep talking, the conversations far less awkward. Still, it’s clear that Ben’s under a lot of stress.

“Doesn’t your uncle ever give you a break?” Poe asks one night, eating dinner in front of the holo while he catches up with his friend. “He’s workin’ you to death out there.”

“He’s just trying to prepare us,” he says, shaking off Poe’s concern. “But…”

“But what?”

Ben grimaces, and Poe can tell he’s embarrassed. The kid hates to show any sign of weakness. Poe’s seen him shaking like a leaf, covered in goosebumps, teeth chattering louder than a freighter engine, and still refusing to admit he’s cold.

“I think Luke goes harder on me than on the others,” he says, and Poe wonders suddenly if he talks to the others. If he confides in them. He’s never heard Ben mention even a name. “I don’t know. I’m probably making that up.”

“Maybe not,” Poe says, wanting to assuage his fears without invalidating his feelings. “He’s your family, right? Family’s always tougher on family.”

“Maybe,” Ben says, and sighs. “I wish you were here.”

Ben is sixteen and Poe is eighteen. Poe’s working in a squadron now and working his way up the ranks, really an up-and-comer.

The General couldn’t be prouder.

Ben comes home from Jedi training for a week and fights with his mother the whole time. Han doesn’t even bother to come home to see his son.

“Which one’s that?” Poe asks, pointing up to a constellation. They’re lying out on the tarmac, in the dark, long after all the ships have been tucked in for bed.

“I don’t know,” Ben says. “They’re different on every planet, Poe. The stars look different from every angle.”

“Okay,” Poe says, trying to coax his brother and best friend out of the irritable young man beside him. “So we can make stuff up, right? Because that looks like a shoe. Or, no, a boot.”

“It looks like a biscuit.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“No, wait, it looks more like a piece of ham.”

“Ben, I think you’re just hungry.”

Ben laughs and it sounds strange, after so long without it. It fades quickly, and they lie there staring at the stars in silence for a long time. “They’re scared of me,” Ben says, quietly, quietly.

Poe doesn’t look at him. “Of course they’re not.”

“They are,” Ben says, not even argumentative, just calm as if he knows undeniably that what he says is the truth. “They want to send me away. They don’t want me near the Resistance.”

Poe breathes in, out. He doesn’t have a fucking clue how to do this. Ben pulled him out of the depths of misery years ago and he’s got no idea how to return the favor. “They’re not scared of you, Ben,” he promises. He doesn’t even know if he means it. “They’re not.”

A month after that, it happens.

Leia and Poe are having dinner. Han is supposed to be there, but a job takes a turn and he has to spend a week on some distant rock, working out a deal.

Leia and Poe are having dinner, like always, and the call comes in from Luke.

“It’s… it’s Ben,” he says, and he looks _old_ , older than Poe thought he was. “He’s… it’s not good, Leia. I think you should get here as fast as you can.” Poe goes with her.

Later, Poe will come to assume that at the time of Luke Skywalker’s transmission, no one had died yet.

By the time they reach the place Luke’s been using as a training ground, it’s a massacre. Bodies litter the ground like garbage. Ben is there, and he’s at once himself and nothing like himself.

When Leia calls out to him, he strikes out with the Force and tells her that’s not his name. Luke fights him, but to no avail.

He cannot bring himself to kill Kylo Ren.

And Poe, Poe may as well not even be there. The Knights of Ren attack the Jedi with ferocity but leave the three of them alone. Kylo Ren does not, lashing out at his mother and his uncle. But Poe stands there, drenched in the rain and shaking, and nothing happens to him. He isn’t worth it.

Luke and Leia retreat, clinging to each other in the rain, up until the point that Luke lets go and stares after Kylo Ren, looking lost. Poe reconsiders his earlier opinion.

Luke Skywalker looks much, much younger than he really is.

“Wait,” Poe calls, hoarse, squinting through the rain. Ben’s hooded and in a mask and he isn’t Ben anymore, he isn’t at all Ben, but something in Poe still calls out. He can’t help it. “Wait. Wait! You’re my brother, Ben.” The rain, the rain falls and falls. “I love you.”

Kylo Ren doesn’t kill him, and Poe knows why.

He was right before. He isn’t worth it.

So Poe learns from the General. He throws himself into piloting, spending all his hours in the sky. Being on the ground starts to feel wrong to him, claustrophobic.

Poe is nineteen when his father dies. The same year, Han Solo stops coming home for good.

Poe’s not sure which hurts more, and that thought makes him feel a little bit monstrous.

Poe is twenty-one when he’s in his first real battle with the First Order. He can’t stop thinking about Kylo Ren. He kills three men.

Poe is twenty-four when he becomes leader of his own squadron. There’s a party and alcohol and he can’t remember the space between his eighth drink and waking up in the morning, and he’s got a black eye and everyone tells him that Jessika Pava punched him but only because he dared her to.

Poe is twenty-seven when he first sees the General cry over Kylo Ren.

It’s a hard sight to walk in on and he knows, _knows_ she never wanted anyone to see, but there she is bracing herself against a desk and weeping, a contained hurricane with nothing left in it but the rain.

Poe Dameron doesn’t say a word; he just wraps his arms around her. She doesn’t even react.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” But he’s sorry for himself, too, and he doesn’t know who’s going to say it to him.

Poe is thirty-two when he’s taken captive by the First Order, forced into restraints and tortured for information. He’s been trained for this, he’s prepared for this.

It’s not until they’re throwing the might of the First Order at him that he realizes there is no preparing for _this_.

He feels torn apart, he feels like he might really, actually die, but still he doesn’t give in. He can’t stop thinking of the General, and of the shadowy memories he has of Luke Skywalker standing in the rain.

And then there’s Kylo Ren again, hooded and masked and Poe realizes that he is going to die. He is going to die, here and now, and he will never see BB-8 again and he will never see the General again and he will never see Jess Pava again, this is the end and the last thing he’s going to see is the mask hiding Ben Solo’s face.

“I didn’t know we had the best pilot in the Resistance onboard,” Kylo Ren tells him, and Poe can’t help remembering him skinnier and smaller, calling him that proudly, _That’s my big brother_ , _That’s my best friend, he’s the best pilot in the Resistance_.

And then, and then, Kylo Ren is reaching into his mind and _twisting_ , gutting his head like a fish. It hurts like hell and Poe feels he’s being punished for remembering Ren the wrong way, for remembering him with messy hair and big dreams and a gap-toothed grin.

“The Resistance,” he says, “will not be intimidated by you,” and all he’s thinking about is the stars, the night, _They’re not scared of you, Ben_.

And then Kylo Ren’s pulling up memories, anything he can to torture Poe. Fear and pain and every firefight, the dead villagers down below on Jakku, all the dead villagers in all the burned villages, everything Poe’s witnessed in this godawful war.

And then, and then, there he is. Standing by his father’s side, watching them lower his dead mother into the ground. He hears her scream for him—

It shatters him, right there and then, and he breaks. God help him, he breaks. He gives up BB-8.

There is not a speck of his brother in the monster standing in front of him.

 

 

 

 


End file.
